


see you where you happen to be

by icouldnotsee (herprettysleeper)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bucky is introspective sometimes, M/M, Mentioned Sharon Carter/Natasha Romanov, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Outsider, POV Second Person, Past Bucky Barnes/Gabe Jones, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), The Author Regrets Everything, sometimes Bucky stalks his friends and their sort-of boyfriends (out of love), what do i even tag this??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 23:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herprettysleeper/pseuds/icouldnotsee
Summary: Five times Bucky watched Sam and Steve keep their feelings to themselves and one time they were open about them.





	see you where you happen to be

**Author's Note:**

> So some outsider pov Sam/Steve because I needed that in my life. Without further ado!

**[1]**

You enter Steve's apartment when he isn't there.

 _Quiet_  is the first word you can latch onto because you don't know what else to ascribe to here, but that's not good information, you know. No one's here, so of course it's quiet. You come up with the next word after a few minutes, once you've wandered through the living room with the sofa that turns into a bed, the small kitchen, the flowers in the middle of the table:  _simple._  Very simple.

It's still quiet. You know he's in the hospital, and the man with the wings is there with him; you saw him go in, panic written all over his face. The girl you don't remember was there briefly, too. Steve's not coming back for at least a day, you think.

You find a sketchbook on the counter, and you smile a little; you can't remember why it feels like something solid but it does. You open the thing; there's a drawing of a large building and it looks like it reaches up forever, and then the sky. The outlines of a tree. The kitchen. The man with the wings flying. The man with the wings from the shoulders up, not wearing the wings and smiling. In the next one there's a woman with hair that stops before her shoulders holding the hand of a woman with hair quite a bit longer, and they both look happy, if a bit shy. You believe that you tried to strangle the short-haired one to death a few days ago, and you feel guilty.

The man with the wings, laughing. The man with the wings, cooking in the kitchen. The man with the wings, stretched out sleeping on the sofa. The unfamiliar skyline, crossed out. The unfamiliar skyline, left alone.

The man with the wings isn't wearing wings in anything but the first one you see, but you think that's not why Steve keeps drawing him. He's very pleasant to look at, with or without wings.

The door rattles and you drop the sketchbook. There are keys ratting and voices.

"You really couldn't let them double check and make sure everything was good?"

"I'm fine," a voice you know to be Steve's says, though the last time you heard it it was weak and thick with emotion and pain. It's much lighter now. "I heal fast."

"You got shot in the stomach."

You shot Steve in the stomach.

Steve probably shrugs.

By the time he opens the door, you're climbing out of the apartment down the bedroom window. The darkness covers you enough.

**[2]**

The next time you see Steve and the man with the wings, they're in Colorado, and you're sitting on the roof of their safehouse.

You try to know where they are so they don't find you. You never want them to find you, but it's nice to know where they are. It's nice to be the one with the knowledge, and the power.

There's music playing in the house and you climb down so you can look through a window too high for them to regularly glance at. You hold tight to your position.

You hear it once you're close enough: they are...singing. Badly, but they're doing it all the same.

Then Steve starts to dance and Sam stops singing and starts bending over laughing.

"Got something to say, Sam?"

The name of the man with the wings is Sam. You knew that. You know it better, now.

"No, no, this is just the best thing I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Can't judge me unless you join me." Steve holds out a hand, and Sam chuckles but takes it, and they dance together, for a long time.

It makes you smile. It makes you feel something warm in your chest.

You check the sketchbook later. It's hidden in Steve's carry-on, underneath all the poorly rolled clothes. There are pictures of small Sams halfway through different motions all over two newly filled pages.

The next day when they're out looking for you, you disappear and make yourself reappear in another continent. Still worth it.

**[3]**

There was a man and you don't remember his name (he was named after an angel but you don't remember which one. Michael? Rafael?) but you remember you all had guns and combat wear. You whispered jokes into his ear when he was scared and he intertwined his fingers with yours when you were. It was always too cold in Europe at night and you shared a tent and a blanket and body heat, and then stories, and then kisses. It took time. It was good.

Then you fell off a train.

You wonder if he saw you.

Doesn't matter.

What very much does matter is Steve pacing around inside this new safehouse, which isn't a house, but a very crappy apartment in Quebec. It's January but he still has flowers in a vase on the table.

Sam opens the door and brings in a pizza, then says, "I got pepperoni and sausage."

Steve says, "Oh! Thanks!" It's the tone that he uses whenever Sam does something. It's very happy and his voice trips and stumbles often when he uses it. You doubt that Steve would sound any less happy if Sam told him that the pizza was topped with sand. He's glad about Sam being around.

It also matters how awkwardly Sam shuffles towards the kitchen counter to set down the pizza box. Steve rubs the back of his neck. "Do you wanna watch a movie with me?"

"Uh, sure," Sam says. "What do you have in mind?"

"I was gonna rewatch Star Wars?" It's a statement, but Steve's still asking it.

"Sounds good," Sam replies.

They fall asleep on the couch together. They don't share a tent, but they share a blanket and body heat, and they already started sharing stories a long time ago.

**[4]**

You remember how you knew the woman you tried to strangle to death.

There was a lot of dancing and pointe shoes, or maybe there was fighting, you can't remember which. She shot men in the head. She didn't want to, except when she did.

She didn't shoot you in the head, though. She tolerated you and kissed you, eventually.

You don't remember how it ended. They must've found out.

You file it away.

You're in a motel in the suburbs outside Paris. You have a computer, and you have access to the cameras in the security system where Sam and Steve are. You're not trying to overhear anything but their plans about you, but that's kind of a lie because you are.

The footage is black and white and you're watching Sam sit on the couch, and then his phone rings.

Sam looks at his phone and sighs, then picks it up. "Hey, Mom--"

He seems to cringe a little, and you can't really hear what Sam's mother is saying, but she's saying a lot of it and Sam says different variants of "I'm sorry," and "I'll be more careful." Then, "I'm safe, I'm with Steve. We're in Peru, Mom, it's fine."

You think about the  _I'm safe, I'm with Steve_ and how that's a lie because from what you've seen Sam's never safe and that's because of Steve, he's always fighting someone or something with Steve and then coming home bruised with broken ribs and busted lips.

" No, he's not--" he laughs a little. "Well, yeah, he can be really stubborn sometimes but he's a good man."

More sounds through the phone.

"No, it's not like that."

His mother speaks again. Sam stands and paces in a circle. "No, no, that's not--we're partners."

They talk some more until, "Bye, love you too."

You fill in the gaps, and suppose that she asked him if they were dating. You're pretty sure the word still means what it used to.

They are, you think. They haven't told each other they are yet, but they are.

**[5]**

The third time you are where they are you search for Steve's sketchbook, and when you find it you flip through it.

The building, the sky, the outline of a tree. Sam, Sam. The drawing of the long-haired girl, Sharon, Steve's friend, who is dating Nat, the shorter-haired girl you strangled once and maybe fell in love with before then. Sam, Sam, Sam, the skyline crossed out, the skyline left alone, a dozen small sketches of Sam dancing with Steve, spread across two pages. Sam with wings, but not the wings you saw. These are angel wings. He has a halo, and he's wearing a soft smile.

You take the sketchbook and you put it in Sam's backpack. It takes two days before Sam pulls it out.

He opens it to the first page, sees the drawing of the building and the tree and he closes the sketchbook and puts it in on the counter. When Steve comes back Sam says, "Hey, man, I found your sketchbook in my bag? I think our stuff got mixed up or something, I put it on the counter."

Steve freezes. "Did you look through it?"

"The first page, but that's it. There wasn't a name outside." Then he says, quieter, "you didn't tell me you draw."

"I don't," Steve says, quickly. "Not really."

Sam doesn't push. He starts reading a book on the couch and Steve takes his sketchbook, heading to the room, then stops halfway there, looking through it. He bites his lip. He looks at Sam.

 _Oh, come the fuck on,_  you think.

He walks over to Sam and touches his shoulder. Sam closes his book and looks up. "Yeah?"

"Here," Steve says. He holds out the sketchbook. "You should, uh. Please look through it."

Sam looks at Steve, a little worried. He takes the sketchbook. He sees the first one of him. More. Then the one where he has real wings and a halo. He runs his finger over the wing and Steve is going pink.

Sam looks up at Steve and says his name very softly.

Steve turns red. "I'm gonna head to bed," he tells Sam.

"Alright, then."

You're upset that they didn't admit to each other that they're dating, but they both know now.

**[+1]**

You remember the name of the man in the tent. It was Gabriel. The messenger angel. It's very fitting. You called him Gabe and he had a wonderful smile.

He's dead now. You don't think about it too much.

You do think about the fact that you're in Portland, and so are Sam and Steve. You're standing across the street from them. Rain pours down, and you hold up an umbrella. Your face is covered and there's too many people around you for you to be noticed.

Sam and Steve come out of the restaurant, and the rain falls on their heads until Steve opens the umbrella to cover them. They stand for a moment, talking. It's too loud to hear what they say, but their eyes are lit up.

After a few moments Steve kisses Sam, rain coming down around them. They smile at each other after and keep walking, and you watch them till they're out of sight.

They're good for each other. They've got their fair share of messiness going on, but they work it out for each other. You think you can do the same, eventually. You can probably find a place to settle down for a while, sort out your own shit. Maybe you'll become elusive enough that they'll finally find some peace and quiet and have the time to go on more dates.

You smile at the thought of that. They know they're dating now.

_Thank God._


End file.
